


Between me an you, pranks, laughs...

by vchrisi



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Pranks, Shaving, laughs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 11:34:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4827665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vchrisi/pseuds/vchrisi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Let‘s just shave one leg?"</p><p>The suggestion is met by scepticism.</p><p>“Well…” Liam starts just as Louis mutters, “Knew you‘d be too chicken. Maybe I‘ll shave <i>your</i> head. You should take notes, Harold.”</p><p>Louis blindly reaches for the razor while looking up at Liam.</p><p>“Give him some paper and a penc -”</p><p>“Fuck off,” Harry murmurs softly as he eyes Niall’s left leg, holding the razor out of Louis’ reach without any real effort. To shave the right leg would be too cruel, the short hairs probably turning everything itchy under the plastic of the cast. Left it is.</p><p>(Or: The boys play a rare inside prank.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between me an you, pranks, laughs...

   


“Stop fucking laughing!”

Louis’ imploring whisper only sets off another fit of giggles and Harry has to hold back his one hand with the other. The razor is shaking too much from his laughing, it won’t work this way.

It was Liam’s idea, surprisingly. Poor Niall. They got drunk after their successful show in Montreal, all of them together, which is rare these days.

 _All the more reason to make it memorable_ , Harry thinks and tries to steady his hand. His tongue pokes out of his mouth and a curl falls into his eyes as he leans forward again.

“Careful”, Liam warns, his voice strained. “Go slow.”

Harry leans back and puts his hands in his lap, frown set on his face and snarky remark ready on his tongue. He really can’t stand it when Liam babies him like this. Especially since he’s probably downed more beers than Harry.

Suddenly Louis puts an alarmed hand on his shoulder and points at Niall’s moving form. The remark on Harry’s tongue dies. All of them freeze.

Niall shuffles around a bit, turning over onto his side and smacking his lips before going back to his steady, deep breathing.

They wait a few seconds, the air around them so still that a needle could probably fall into the very soft hotel room carpet and they would still be able to hear it. Niall doesn’t wake up and it seems like they breathe a collective sigh of relief. For Harry it’s a sign.

“I‘m not gonna shave his chest.” He purses his lips in thought. With the way Niall is lying right now he wouldn’t be able to reach it properly anyway.

_And I rather like that rug._

The others don‘t have to know that though.

Liam pouts and Louis pulls a face in mock anger. Harry understands, he knows he’s fickle, a minute ago it was still a good idea in his own head. But now?

“Let‘s just shave one leg?"

The suggestion is met by scepticism.

“Well…” Liam starts just as Louis mutters, “Knew you‘d be too chicken. Maybe I‘ll shave _your_ head. You should take notes, Harold.”

Louis blindly reaches for the razor while looking up at Liam.

“Give him some paper and a penc -”

“Fuck off,” Harry murmurs softly as he eyes Niall’s left leg, holding the razor out of Louis’ reach without any real effort. To shave the right leg would be too cruel, the short hairs probably turning everything itchy under the plastic of the cast. Left it is.

With a last look at Niall‘s peaceful, very asleep face, Harry drags the razor slowly and carefully over the skin, taking the coarse, dark hair away with the blade.

“I‘m gonna give him a nice design,” he whispers, focusing on not cutting Niall, or waking him with the friction of the blade on his leg. Liam and Louis both keep a close watch on Niall, a chuckle escaping from their lips every other second and Harry thinks he sees a phone out of the corner of his eye. Louis will probably send a video to Zayn and have a proper laugh about it later on.

The stripes of shaven and unshaven leg are coming along nicely and only after another minute of concentrated work, Harry is finished with what he thinks is a masterpiece.

Now Liam takes out his phone and grins from ear to ear while snapping a few pictures. Harry suppresses the urge to tell him that he’s blocking the light source, that the pictures won’t turn out well at all. But it‘s late and just not worth it. There’s gonna be natural light tomorrow during the day and his artwork won’t go anywhere.

Louis pats Harry’s shoulder as he stands up from kneeling next to the bed.

“Good one, Niall’s gonna love it.”

Harry grins up at him and bumps his shoulder into Louis’ leg as he stretches.

“I’m heading to bed, lads. Big day tomorrow.”

Liam frowns, a questionmark written all over his face.

“Got nothing planned,” Louis explains with a dreamy sigh and pockets his phone.

“D’you wanna come to New York with me? Jeff’s flying afternoon.”

“No, you go on and have fun young Harold, I’ll be just fine.”

Now he’s patting Harry’s head, messing with his curls. He’s not preening. A questioning glance at Liam has him shaking his head.

“Sophia wants to go shopping, I’ll stay, but thanks.”

Harry nods and hugs Louis’ leg goodbye for the next few days. Liam puts away his phone and yawns.

“I’m actually joining you, Tommo.”

“Oi, that’s a bit forward, to be honest?” Louis remarks and wiggles his eyebrows on his way out of the room.

Liam laughs and kisses Niall’s knee and the top of Harry’s head before catching up to Louis.

“Night!” they both say in unison and then the door is closed and Harry is only surrounded by the sounds of Niall‘s calm breathing and his own thoughts.

It really was a lovely night, with all of them gathered around the TV, shouting at a game of FIFA 13 and sharing 8 pizzas. Simple and uneventful, but still nice. At one point Louis even facetimed Zayn to brag about finally beating Harry in a game. Zayn didn’t have to remind Louis of his multiple defeats the last time they played though, so everyone brought in the liquor, knowing that this would become a rowdy night for sure.

Harry nods to himself, slowly, all alone. He’s a little fuzzy in his head, which is perfect, but he’s starting to get tired. His puffy eyes fall on Niall’s funny toes.

It would’ve been smarter if he had put something under Niall’s leg in beforehand, now there’s hair everywhere. Harry maneuveres his sleeping form into a better position, mindful of the massive cast.

“Wha-” Niall begins, but Harry shushes him instantly, stroking a hand over Niall’s forehead and hair.

“Go to sleep Ni, it’s fine.”

Niall groggily looks up at him, then nods and turns to lie on his side, his broken foot now resting on the pillow Harry placed over the hairs on the bed. He will use one from the couch to sleep on tonight.

After some tidying up Harry goes to the bathroom and quickly gets ready for bed, shutting off the lights and climbing in next to Niall when he’s done.

He fiddles with his phone a bit, decides against setting an alarm and sticks his butt out until it’s touching Niall’s, settling in for the night. Sometime later Niall will turn around and follow from where Harry’s touching him to cuddle up, arms and legs and everything thrown over Harry. That’s how it usually happens, and Harry honestly won’t complain about it, because Niall puts up with his snoring - something only Zayn was able to deal with. He’s greatful for Niall’s deep sleep.

Just thinking about all the possibile reactions Niall could have in the morning brings a grin to Harry’s face and he wiggles around a bit, finally comfortable and ready to fall asleep.

—

He hears quiet laughter first, breathy huffs in the otherwise quiet room. His brows furrow and he tries to bury his face deeper into the bed, which - is actually Niall’s armpit, now that his other senses are coming to him. The hair is tickling his nose a bit, the smell a heavy, manly scent. Harry can’t help but grumble, being woken up so early. Or, it rather feels early, he’s not aware of the time, but his limbs move sluggishly, as if he was underwater.

“Mornin’ beautiful,” Niall chirps and rubs his warm hand over Harry’s exposed back.

He only gets another grumble in return and well, it is only nine in the morning, understandable. But Zayn did send Niall a text when he woke up, which was around 10am? So, roughly four hours ago. With the names and the crimes committed against him.

The boys can’t roughhouse with him, it’s true, bum knee and all, but to come for him when he’s at his most vulnerable? When he’s asleep? That is high treason.

“So,” Niall beginns as he stretches his arms out and rolls on top of Harry, “last night was fun.”

The air rushes out of Harry all at once and Niall can’t help but laugh. Harry’s face is really funny, squished into the pillow, with the lips sticking out fishlike. His body is more like a starfish though, with Niall pressing him into the matress.

With a little shout and his feet kicking out like a stroppy kid in the supermarket who is not getting candy, Harry whines, “I didn’t sleep with you, what the fuck.”

“You’re right. You didn’t didn’t fuck me, but you fucked with my leg.”

Harry stilled under him. Niall could see his eyes dart to the side, trying to look at his face.

“Louis. Not me.”

 _Oh, this is too good_ , Niall thinks and sends a quick thank you to Zayn in his mind.

“You’re done for, Styles,” he growls as he dug his fingers into Harry’s sides, tickling his ribs and armpit. It quickly turns into Niall trying to hold on for his dear life as he practically rides Harry the bull, every touch sending Harry into a frenzy, barking laughs and squeals and pleas for Niall to stop.

“Admit it,” Niall gets out before he lands on his side, literally and on the bed. The cast is still intact, the bedsheets aren’t. He can’t fight the smile on his face, treason or not.

Harry closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, thankful for the rest. He really didn’t expect to be woken up like this.

“It was Liam’s idea.”

Of course, Niall treats it like brand new information, gritting out a “Bastard!” for dramatic effect before he pulls Harry in by his arm.

He flops down on Niall’s chest and mumbles some halfarsed apology into the hair there. To be honest, it’s really not a big deal. Niall isn’t cross with any of them, it’s harmless compared to the lemons in his shoes. He actually feels… cared for, if you will. Protected, even though they played that prank on him instead of someone else. It feels like all is right in the world, his boys having a fun time, even if it is at his own expense. _That’s what it’s all about in the end, isn’t it._

“Eh, got enough on my chest, I’ll get a transplant.”

Harry giggles at that and Niall pets his hair, settling in for a little downtime before they eventually have to get up. He flicks through his mental catalog of clothing to find out which jeans he would have to avoid, saying a goodbye to his comfy shorts already.

“We should totally crash Liam’s date.”

Niall’s hand stills, then resumes stroking the soft waves of Harry’s hair.

“Get Louis in on it too, yeah? You can film it this time.”

It’s not the greatest idea Harry’s ever had and it’s probably not even going to happen. Louis has his day off, Harry has to be on the other side of the country in a few hours. Definitely not going to happen then.

Niall is absolutely in.

   


**Author's Note:**

> hope you had a laugh. ot5 ride or die, see you guys in hell.


End file.
